There’s nothing like spontaneously being greeted by a farmers’ market on a beautiful Sunday morning when you least expect it. We were in Denver for the Avett Brothers concert at Red Rocks and to visit some belted galloway cows. The following day, before heading back up to Wyoming, we decided we desperately needed a strong cup of coffee. We drove around the city, passing four Whole Foods in the process, until we found a coffee shop worth stopping in. I couldn’t believe my emotional reaction to seeing Whole Foods! Who knew how much I loved that box of a store… I was just so grateful that we didn’t stop first at our Whole Foods oasis because lo and behold, as we found that lovely store of caffeine, we saw the streets blocked off for a farmers’ market. And not just any farmers’ market, but one with goat cheese, sausages, peaches, kombucha, heirloom tomatoes, cilantro, pears, and locally produced pancetta and salami. Score. Our Labor Day picnic/barbeque looked as though it just might become realistic. Well, not the picnic part. It was only fifty degrees that evening. But definitely the delicious food part. More on those recipes later.

But let’s get to the point. That pancetta. That salty, tender, lovely block of pancetta turned our last night’s dinner into a luxury. The man selling charcutterie recommended making a carbonara with the gourmet treat. He sold us within his first sentence of description. After a little searching around on-line, I settled on a recipe by Tyler Florence and adapted it just a bit for what we had on hand. It was delectable, peppery, flavorful, and eaten under a sky full of stars on a new moon night with the truck bed as our table.

Linguine Alla Carbonara
adapted from Tyler Florence’s Food 911 recipe (click on previous for link)
Ingredients

1 pound dry linguine, spaghetti, or fettucine
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
4 ounces pancetta or slab bacon, cubed
4-6 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 large eggs
1 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus more for serving
Freshly ground black pepper
1 handful fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, or 2 tablespoons dried (optional)
1/2 cup reserved pasta water

Prepare the sauce while the pasta is cooking to ensure that the spaghetti will be hot and ready when the sauce is finished; it is very important that the pasta is hot when adding the egg mixture, so that the heat of the pasta cooks the raw eggs in the sauce. The sauce is quite simple, so start that pasta water first. The timing will be easier the second time you make this (and you will make it again.)

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil, add the pasta and cook for 8 to 10 minutes or until tender yet firm (although at our elevation it actually was closer to 12-15 minutes.) We didn’t have fresh parsley on hand so added some dried parsley to the pasta water near the end of cooking, and then added a touch of dried parsley on finished dish. Drain the pasta well, reserving 1/2 cup of the starchy cooking water to use in the sauce if you wish- I wish that I had reserved the cooking water when reheating leftovers the next day.

Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a deep skillet over medium flame. Add the pancetta and saute for about 3 minutes, until the bacon is crisp and the fat is rendered. Toss the garlic into the fat and saute for less than 1 minute to soften.

Add the hot, drained spaghetti to the pan and toss for 2 minutes to coat the strands in the bacon fat. Beat the eggs and Parmesan together in a mixing bowl, stirring well to prevent lumps. Remove the pan from the heat and pour the egg/cheese mixture into the pasta, whisking quickly until the eggs thicken, but do not scramble (this is done off the heat to ensure this does not happen.) Thin out the sauce with a bit of the reserved pasta water, until it reaches desired consistency. Season the carbonara with several turns of freshly ground black pepper and taste for salt. Mound the spaghetti carbonara into warm serving bowls and garnish with chopped parsley. Pass more cheese around the table.

because your tomatoes love you. They are abundant little fruits, these juicy and colorful round orbits. So versatile, the tomato easily transforms a dry meal to saucy, a plain dip to special.

Tonight we were hungry. My desire was to cook, but not to think. I was leaning towards an Indian Vegetable and Paneer Biryani, but that conflicted too much with my desire to not think. Finally, sitting on my porch with cookbooks in tow, I saw my inspiration: the tomato plant. Neighbors have been heralding us with their ripe tomatoes, and the market tomatoes cat call us as we walk past. At some point we surrender. I’m not ready to make salsa or dedicate my evening to jarring homemade marinara. But tonight we were ready to peel and de-seed our pile of tomatoes, puree them into a rich pulp of sweet raw goodness. We were to eat pasta tonight.

First, we needed pasta. We ran to the store and bought fresh pasta made in Madison, WI at RP’s Pastas. We also picked up a block of parmesean, some slices of side pork, and a pineapple for dessert. We started with frying the pork in a bit of olive oil. Even though it hadn’t been aged like bacon, the fresh smokiness of it was reminiscent of hearty breakfasts around a campfire. We added some minced garlic and a small onion. These browned with the pork, and when they turned a sufficient shade of golden we tossed in chopped parsley and thyme from the front yard garden. My patience was waning at this point. It all smelled so good. Onto the stove went a pot of water. One by one we dropped our tomatoes, so at home on the windowsill, into the water, blanching them so the peels and seeds were easier to remove. They were chopped and then pureed in the CuisineArt, and slowly added to the sputtering pork mixture on the stove. The sauce started to thicken, we added salt and pepper, and before we could scoop up the whole darn mess with our tasting spoons, the pasta and sauce were ready to dish up. We grated the parmesean on top, mostly for good measure, and dug in, slurping the whole thing with great satisfaction. The flavor was surprisingly intense and savory, bite after bite seeming to fuse more fully.

Needless to say, there was no room for the pineapple. But we did accompany our food preparations with a large bottle of Jolly Pumpkin Bam Biere Farmhouse Ale. Oh so good.